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Penal Colony
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The Hand of John Kemble
followed it down to the reliquary,
the last few of pocked knee
had a vision：delerium tremens
in the throes of summerland
there were rings on every finger
courted pagans there on easter
swallowed it down, the boiled hare
lazy-eyed men say they've seen it;
wrest the gim crack
from so many trinkets
sermons tangled in chicken wire
waterproofed with hot tar
and time folded over,
stood in, front, ensconced;
no one to set off the defensives
by the hand of John Kemble
we wished our wishes
chants that went sideways
drank our super-ego
by the hand of John Kemble
and temptations before us
fell under John's famine
laid to waste like Faust
frankenscense traded
for the hand
gold fever wished upon it
sworn to nature
and the elements
somnabulism nausea
came from my scrap metal
followed it to the terminal
dressed walk window's coin
operated inferno
sent back
by telekinesis
to the center
of Egypt
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grift as the
last train wreck
from the carny's possession.
pendulums whistle the bomb song
by the hand of John Kemble
we wished our wishes
chants that went sideways
drank our super-ego
by the hand of John Kemble
and temptations before us
fell under John's famine
laid to waste like Faust
dripped from a sky falling
shone the hand's ring like a shiner;
eyes turned to marble
there, we marched with the triad
in the riot boot borrowed
catholics sent the missionaries
easter rites behind them
his hand, there it went
from Göslar to The Keys
whole tribes
came back from the dead
dressed in chicken blood
waiting for Nöel
black pine for the hanging
by the hand of John Kemble
we wished our wishes
chants that went sideways
drank our super-ego
by the hand of John Kemble
and temptations before us
fell under John's famine
laid to waste like Faust
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